by Marla Monroe
“Jethro, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. Of all the women who might consider being shared, she is not one of them. She’s going to marry some stockholder or merge with another company that would complement her daddy’s business. She isn’t going to fall in love and marry two men who work construction.” Deacon slammed the truck into park outside their office.
“We own a successful business where we direct construction. We aren’t actually in construction anymore.”
“Tomatoes, tomatoes. Same fucking difference.”
“Deacon, just try and be nice to her okay? Don’t deliberately push her away. I promise not to make any moves on her until we finish the project, but I do want to get to know her.”
Deacon snarled then sighed. He wasn’t going to get around it. When Jethro got something in his head, there was no reasoning with him.
“Fine. I won’t antagonize her. I’m not going to go sweet-talking her. That’s not me and you know it. So, don’t ask,” he said.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Asshole.”
Chapter Three
The sound of banging hammers and shouts from the various men working on the walls being erected in the back of the building’s bottom floor sounded like music to Rissa’s ears. It meant that her dream was on its first legs of becoming a reality. She walked through one of the doorways, and someone pressed her against a wall just as a piece of the ceiling tile fell where she’d been standing.
She looked up into Deacon’s concerned face that quickly morphed into anger.
“What the hell are you doing walking around here without a fucking hard hat on?”
“I didn’t know I needed one. Where do I get said hard hat from? I didn’t see any sitting on a table by the back door.”
“I’ll get you one. Keep it with you so that when you’re here nosing around you don’t get hurt. That’s all we need is for you to get hit over the head with something and have brain damage from it.” Deacon called up for everyone to stop while he grabbed a hat from one of the many tables set up to hold up the various saws and supplies they were using. “Here. Put it on and keep it on anytime you’re in the building even if we’re not working on the floor you’re walking around in.”
“Why? If you’re not working there, why would I need to wear it?” she asked.
Part of Rissa knew she was baiting the big bad wolf, but she couldn’t help it. He intrigued her. That quick moment, brief though it had been, showing her the concern and worry in his eyes and on the lines of his face made her want to know more.
A lot more.
“Because anytime you mess with support beams and the skeleton of a building, things can shift, and more ceiling tile could fall. Don’t fuck with me on this. It’s for your own safety,” he said with a scowl.
Rissa liked the bulldog look as she named it. He seemed to have it on a lot. When he’d shoved her against the wall, Rissa had reveled in the strength of his muscles while his hands had been gentle. He hadn’t bruised her, though he could have without meaning to. He’d thought enough ahead to be careful of her skin. There was more to Deacon than the angry, perpetually irritated man in front of her.
“Hey, Rissa. Didn’t expect you today.” Jethro walked over wearing his hard hat like a cowboy wore a Stetson. “We’re just working on the support walls and putting in a beam to help shore up the floor above. All of this will change once we start working on the bottom floor.”
“I just wanted to see how things are coming. I’m not checking up on you or anything,” she rushed to assure them.
“No problem. Hopefully we’ll get started on tearing out the walls on the third floor the first of next week. Everything down here is going according to plan.” Jethro took her elbow and led her over to the front of the building—and away from the possibility that something might fall, she surmised.
Yeah, he was completely different from Deacon, yet they went well together. Where Deacon had told her in no uncertain terms that she’d been in danger and could have been hurt, Jethro merely led her away from the danger, talking to her so that she wouldn’t notice what he’d been doing. She liked how both men had been so different yet accomplished the same thing.
I’ve got to stop thinking about them. They work for me, for god sakes. They’re off limits.
Well, she could dream. And dream she had. Every night since they’d signed the contract to work on her building. Most of them had been so hot she’d woken up with a wet pussy and sweating the next morning. It didn’t help that in most of those dreams she was between the two men. That was too taboo to even contemplate, but there it was.
“I can’t wait until I can see it all come together. I’m excited that I’m finally going to realize my dream. You can’t imagine how exciting that is for me,” she said.
“Actually, we probably can,” Jethro said. “Deacon and I had a dream when we were actually working construction for someone else of having our own company one day, and here we are. So, I think we do understand a little bit.”
Rissa smiled. Yeah, they would. It was something they had in common. She liked that small attachment it gave them.
“I bet you celebrated for a month once you opened your doors for the first time,” she said.
“You don’t know the half of it. We worked hard, but come the weekend, we partied like maniacs. Then our age caught up with us, and now we tend to cook a steak and have a couple of beers after a big job’s finished. Nothing nearly as wild as when we were younger.”
Rissa could easily see them tearing it up at a bar somewhere, drinking, dancing, and having a good time. Honestly though, the sedate steak and wine instead of beer sounded much more appealing to her.
It was funny. When Brad closed a deal or something, he went out with his coworkers to celebrate and never included her. It hadn’t bothered her until just that moment. Shouldn’t she have been part of that? She bet these two men included their girlfriends or wives, if they had them.
Wives, oh hell. Were they married? She hadn’t thought about that. Neither man wore any jewelry, but working in construction they might not as a rule. Plus, a lot of men didn’t wear rings anymore. Had she been drooling and having sexual fantasies about married men?
“Well, once this is complete, I plan on celebrating myself. We’ll all have to go out for a nice dinner and toast its completion,” she said, planning on doing just that.
“Sounds like a plan,” Jethro said.
“You can invite your girlfriends or wives and we’ll make it a party.”
“No girlfriends or wives. We’re hardheaded bachelors,” Jethro said.
That got her wondering if they were an item. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d encountered a couple of hot guys only to find out that they were more into each other than her. She’d sighed, and they’d continued to be friends, but at the time, it had disappointed her. Now she had two more hunky men right in front of her, and she wondered if she would be out of luck should she make a play for one of them after they’d finished her building.
No use in worrying about that until later. I don’t know why I’m so hooked on them anyway. They’re not my usual type.
Maybe that was why she was. Maybe her type was changing.
“Well, that’s some ways off. Things change,” she told him. “I better let you get back to what you were doing. I’m on my way to get my hair cut. I just wanted to stop by and see how things were going.”
Deacon walked over just as she told Jethro where she was going. He lifted a brow. “Hair cut? It looks fine like it is. Why do you need it cut?”
“Just a trim to keep it looking even. I have a standing appointment every other week. Plus, I chipped a nail the other day and need to get it fixed as well. I’ll see you guys later.” Rissa smiled then waved as she carefully made her way out the back, paying close attention to what was going on over her head.
When she walked outside, she took off the hard hat and smiled. She had her own hard hat now. She could visit wh
enever she wanted to without Deacon freaking out again. Not that she’d minded so much considering how he’d pushed her up against the wall to keep her from getting her head bashed in. She’d been all too aware of those hard-as-steel muscles once again. In fact, that was becoming one of her favorite places to be, pressed between Deacon and a wall or a car or just about anywhere. Maybe even Jethro.
* * * *
“She nearly got her head knocked in from falling ceiling tile. I swear she’s going to drive me up the wall if she keeps coming around here,” Deacon said.
“I noticed you gave her a hard hat. That was good thinking. I bet she’ll wear it every time she shows up now. She strikes me as someone who pays attention to the important stuff,” Jethro told him.
“She’s going to get her hair trimmed and her nails done. We don’t need that kind of woman wondering around the place while we’re renovating. She’s going to end up getting hurt, and it’ll be our fault.”
“She’ll be careful.”
“Bullshit.”
“Give her some credit, Deacon. She’s smart, or she wouldn’t be opening a store by herself.”
“It’s probably all a pipe dream. She’ll move in upstairs and never get the place off the ground. She’s an airhead. Wait and see.”
But Deacon couldn’t convince his dick that. In fact, he was having a hard time keeping her out of his dreams. She haunted him, letting him get so far with her then disappearing when he was almost inside of her. The only time he climaxed was when he and Jethro both had her between them.
Fuck.
He wanted her just as much as his partner did. It didn’t mean it was going to happen, but he could admit that he liked what he saw with her cascade of dark red curls and those amazing green eyes. She had curves that would make a biker drool as they negotiated the mountains. He’d sure like to negotiate hers.
Deacon had jacked off to thoughts of her nearly every night since they’d met her, and still, he knew she was trouble and that they shouldn’t get involved with her. Women like her might try a little down and dirty to satisfy their curiosity, but they didn’t make it a habit. If they satisfied their itch and her curiosity, it would lead to them getting hurt. She wasn’t one of the women they’d played with in the past. She was someone worth keeping, but they weren’t for her.
“So, are you going to tell me you aren’t sporting wood for her?” Jethro asked.
“Shut the fuck up. There’s no need to announce it to the guys. We have to be professional around them, or they’ll lose respect for us. No fucking around on the job. You know that.”
“Calm down, Deacon. I’m not. I say we take turns showing her around the progress every time she shows up to see what we’ve accomplished. She’s going to come back and often. Switching out will help dissuade talk that one of us is putting the moves on her. Besides, it will give her a chance to get to know each of us that way.”
“You’ve got to get her out of your head, Jethro. We’re only going to get hurt by someone like her. She’ll use us then drop us like last month’s shoes. I don’t want to go through that again.”
“She’s already under my skin. I can’t turn back now. I want her in ways I’ve never wanted another woman. She’s cheerful and sweet, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders. Yeah, she’s used to scheduled spa treatments and going to the nail salon anytime she chips one, but that’s all part of who she is. I like who she is.” Jethro looked down at his boots.
“Fine. I’ll play along with you for now. I still think we’re in for a heartache. I just don’t believe she’ll give us the time of day.”
Inside, Deacon had her under his skin as well. Secretly he was glad Jethro was pushing it, but the practical side of him worried. Worried that she’d turn them down. Worried that she wouldn’t.
I’m just as caught in her web of innocence as Jethro. I want her under me and between us to the point I can’t think straight around her. Something’s got to give.
Unfortunately, Deacon was afraid it would be them.
“She mentioned that once we’d completed the project we should all go out and celebrate.” Jethro smiled. “She suggested that our girlfriends or wives should come along. She was fishing, man. I could see it in her eyes.”
“Doesn’t mean anything.”
“Sure it does. She wants us, but isn’t one to poach on another woman’s turf. Says a lot about her integrity.”
“Yeah, well.”
Honestly, he was at the point he didn’t give a rat’s ass about that. All he could think about was her smoking-hot body, and the way she’d challenged him when he’d chastised her about walking around with her head unprotected. Yeah, that had turned him on.
“Let’s finish up so we can go to the house. I’m beat. I didn’t think we’d ever get that support beam in the right place. The building’s got good bones, but it’s been neglected over the years,” Jethro said.
“Yeah, they knocked out load-bearing walls and now the joists are sagging. We’ll get it shored up and steady again.”
Deacon would make damn sure the place was up to code and safe before he’d allow her to move in. He told himself it was so she wouldn’t have grounds to sue them if something happened, but that small part of himself that had let Jethro talk him into getting to know her knew otherwise. He was protecting what he now considered his.
His and Jethro’s.
Chapter Four
“What do you mean you’re not going with me to the dinner party? Of course you are,” Brad snapped.
“No.” She shoved her hands on her hips and leaned toward the man. “I’m not. I’m going with Dad. I think it’s time we went our separate ways, Brad. You don’t really care about me.”
“That’s not true. You’re very important to me, Clarissa. What is this all about? Is it that stupid plan of yours to open a store? That’s what has gotten into your head.” Brad grabbed her upper arms and shook her. “I won’t stand for this from you. When you’re my wife, you won’t have time for running some stupid store.”
Rissa tried to jerk out of his hands, but he was holding her much too tightly. She’d have bruises there if he didn’t let go.
“The only reason I’m important to you, Brad, is because you want to be part of my dad’s business. Well, you’re going to have to find another way into his good graces. It won’t be through me. Now let go of me.”
“I’m not letting you toss our relationship out the door like this. Your dad will have something to say about it. You’ll see.” Brad finally let go of her before turning and stomping out of her apartment.
The door slamming behind him settled everything inside her. She’d been sure before, but now she was relieved as well. The enormity of what she’d done finally settled over her. She was free once again. Her father would fuss and worry about the entire situation, but he’d get over it. He’d always been supportive of her decisions, whether he approved of them or not.
She started to call him, but figured Brad was already on the phone with him now. She’d wait for her father to call her first.
Sure enough, her phone rang ten minutes later. She smiled when Daddy popped on the phone display.
“Hey, Daddy. I guess Brad’s been on the phone with you,” she said.
“He has. He said you broke things off with him. Are you sure about this, darling?”
“Yes. I should have done it a long time ago, but I guess losing Mom had me clinging to him even when I knew he didn’t really care about me. He doesn’t. You know that, don’t you?” she asked.
“He cares about you, Rissa. He isn’t one to show it though.”
“No, he doesn’t. He fusses all the time that I make him late for everything, and when I need help, he’s never available. Just like my flat tire the other day. He never once thought about me being out in the dark by myself.”
“I was angry about that myself, darling. I let him know it, too. I just hate for you to cut him out of your life unless you’re honestly positive he isn’t the one for
you.”
“I’m positive, Dad. I’m focused on getting my home and the business up and running right now. I don’t have time for his lectures. I’ll be fine, Dad. So, can I go to the dinner party with you?”
“You know it, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
Rissa smiled. “I’ll be ready. Night, Daddy.”
“Night, Rissa.”
She hit end and tossed the phone on the sofa. She hadn’t felt this relieved and relaxed in years. Who knew getting rid of Brad could do that for her. He’d been a pain in her neck for months now. Even when she’d been taking care of her mom before she’d died he’d been irritating, complaining when she wouldn’t leave her mom and go somewhere with him. He should have supported her and hadn’t.
She rubbed her sore arms. Yep, bruises. It just went to show how much he didn’t care about her that he’d leave bruises on her.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen again. When she found another man to spend time with, he’d value her as a woman, and value her time as much as his own.
Unbidden, thoughts of Deacon with his brooding stare and all that thick black hair along with Jethro and his hazel eyes that smiled so easily rushed forward. How could she be so attracted to two men at one time was beyond her. They were different in every sense except that they were both very male and very intense.
I bet they have calluses that would feel so good on my skin. Especially my breasts.
They’d be a little rough, but she could handle that. She’d been completely turned off by Brad’s soft hands and almost clinical forays into sex. He’d gotten off and expected her to be fine with not having an orgasm since it had to be something wrong with her, not him.
She’d had no trouble pleasuring herself when he was gone. Maybe that was why they’d invented vibrators in the first place. Maybe women just didn’t climax without them. Her friends all claimed they had amazing orgasms with their boyfriends, but now she wondered if they’d been lying just like she’d been when they’d talked after one of their little shopping trips.